The Angels
by thesummerstorms
Summary: A couple of quick poems about the Mandalorian and Jedi Civil Wars. Rated T just for safety. Written when my mind is working more in fragments than paragraphs, which is all too often.
1. Sacrifice

**Sacrifice**

By Rev'ika

Sacrifice the Angels

Bring them low to the ground

To a place of paranoia

Where faith is lost and never found

Sacrifice the Angels

Kill their beauty one by one

Hear their hearts cease to beat

As we tear apart the sun

As they're counseled to hold back

Turn their backs and just pretend

It's faith that kills the Angels

As they follow their godsend

Each death echoes inside them

Resonates loud and clear

This war infuriates them

Don't say Angels feel no fear

Blood stains the godsends' face

Beautiful Angels in their own way

Darkened and twisting slowly

As they play the part of fey

Sacrifice the Angels

Their blood on our hands

Betraying our turncoat saviors

As the rebellion demands

The Angels were lost with only purpose

With no higher strength to which to turn

Abandoned to their cause, their perceptions

While their masters watched them burn

Cast aside and desolate

Oh, how far to fall!

Not one quite willing to believe

The Angels mortal after all

Sacrifice the Angels

Bring them low to the ground

To a place of paranoia

Where they are lost and never found

And hear their chilling screams, as they shed their faith like tears

As they throw away their purpose, and they cast aside their wings

We know them as they loose control, as the Angels lay betrayed

And they're watched by their disdainful masters and all the petty kings

* * *

A/N: Nothing special, like I said. From the point of view of soldiers, I guess, about the fallen Jedi of the Mandalorian and Jedi Civil Wars. Godsends being Revan and Malak. Done rather quickly; not much of a serious work.


	2. Turn Her Eyes

**Turn Her Eyes**

By Rev'ika

All kinetic tenacity

She's protective and world-sensitive

Stubborn as her heart that's beating

She can't turn her eyes,

No she can't turn her eyes

Even though it's her faith that's bleeding

As suddenly she blinks awake,

Into unfolding dark perceptions

Into a kind of deep-felt duty

She can't turn her eyes,

No she can't turn her eyes

Even though it's her faith that's bleeding

What to do when the

World is on her shoulders

And the ground is nowhere in sight?

And she can't just look away,

'Cause she's not that kind of Angel

So she breaks as she stands to fight.

She can't turn her eyes,

No she can't turn her eyes

Even though it's her faith that's bleeding

And all the self-proclaimed mentors

Leave her desolate for her self-immolation

Pretend that she's not dying; pretend the world's not dying

So with a world-worn smile

She takes the burden and leads the way

A regular Joan of Arc, as long as no one sees her crying

She's the one, though not the only one, who can't just look away,

Can't make believe that the war's not raging around her

That she's not being called to do her duty

And I smile weakly, try to offer my hand

But her tear-stung eyes are near blinded

This soldier Angel just can't see me

She can't turn her eyes,

No she can't turn her eyes

Even though it's her faith that's bleeding

And as she bends, as she shatters

Those "mentors" just close their eyes

And pretend she wasn't their fault

* * *

Originally written about a female Revan, but I can also very easily see a female Exile, so take your pick.


	3. Unbroken

**Unbroken**

by Rev'ika

(1)

But what was shattered is yet unbroken

The sun in shards but still in her eyes

Nothing gave birth to Everything

And now Nothing kills all lies

To hear she must be deaf

To see she must be blind

Severance gives her freedom

When all the senses bind

When the world fragments into splinters

When silence brings her world to a broken dole

They see only pieces and can never comprehend

That being broken has made her whole

(2)

She discerns what they do not see

She knows the shifting tide

When Truth walks to meet her

Her eyes she cannot cannot hide

Everything is a slippery thing

As shifting as the desert sands

But Nothing shows her wisdom

Her soul in strong, unbroken hands

(3)

So when they forsake their purpose,

When they abandon Truth and loose their way

Nothing strengthens her in the shadows

Preserves her on the darkest day

The very state of being weakened

Is, in the end, what makes her strong

Nothing puts Justice in her hand

A sword to right the wrong

* * *

About the Exile, rather obviously.


	4. I Killed Him Thrice

I Killed Him Thrice

(1)

Once, twice,

I killed him thrice

Thrice I took him and was left without

I killed him with a kiss, and with a doubt,

But only my blade would ever suffice

(2)

By the meeting of our eyes

A secret leaving and starry skies

Lips to whisper, lips to meet

Plans so daring, a promise so sweet

Bound together, we cut our ties

(3)

Scars gained, years past

Identities lost too fast

For a moment I held him, by a question so close

"Do you truly believe?" But my doubt arose

And I sent him away as we fought our last

(4)

A thrust, a wound, like dance

And we squandered our final chance

He struck me, I screamed, and cut with a slash

I ended his life and ended the clash

But neither he nor I found deliverance

(5)

Once, twice

I killed him thrice

His soul in my grasp, haunting my eyes

And I wear my defeat like the bloodied skies

Because no forgiveness could ever suffice

* * *

I really hate what this site does to my formatting. :P


	5. Open Hand

**Author's Note/Disclaimer:** Ignore the stars; they're just for formatting. Etain Tur-Mukan did not survive Order 66, nor did Kreia ever explain who the hell she actually was, so obviously I do not own.

* * *

You reach out with and open hand

And I can't fill it

You reach out to lift me up, saint-like

But I haven't got an offering

You're left empty handed in more ways than one

*

I'm just a fool, but I know

I haven't got a damn thing to give you

I know there's a price, see

No matter how freely you give

*

And I can't have you paying my debts

I can't put the cost to you

It's my own; it belongs to me

Like my sins and past and dreams

*

I've got no trinket to put into your waiting palm

Or into the debtor's purse, whoever the hell

it is who collects on these things

I've got nothing to offer at all

*

You keep waiting for my hand to touch yours

Great as you are, you can't see

I have to have something else to give you

And I don't; I'm just a fool

*

I'll stand beside you

I'll fight to the death for you

But I won't press my palm to yours

Or take what you're offering, what I crave

Yet you simply hold out your empty hand

* * *


End file.
